


The Demon Lover

by RobberBaroness



Category: Arthurian Mythology
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:14:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22522339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobberBaroness/pseuds/RobberBaroness
Summary: The most absurd thought entered Igraine’s head when Gorlois returned from battle- this man is not my husband.
Relationships: Igraine Pendragon/Uther Pendragon (Arthurian)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	The Demon Lover

The most absurd thought entered Igraine’s head when Gorlois returned from battle-  _ this man is not my husband _ .

Perhaps it was the hand placed upon her wrist, like a captor leading a prisoner to some terrible fate, or perhaps it was the way he looked at her body rather than her eyes, or perhaps it was the look upon the face of the knight he came in with- a look of profound disgust, almost apologetic. Or perhaps it was simply the fact that it made no sense for Gorlois to appear at home in the middle of a battle- it was not like him to abandon his troops. But one way or another, something about the situation felt dreadfully wrong to Igraine as her husband pulled her into the bedroom. She struggled to keep up with his powerful strides; rarely had she seen him so insistent. When the bedroom door closed behind them, she looked up into the eyes of the man she loved and tried to see a trace of the tenderness he had always shown her.

She saw none. Instead, she saw something swirling and changeable in his eyes, like dancing stars trying to hold together the shape of a constellation.

“Not- not now…” she whispered. She had never been afraid to refuse Gorlois before, but now she almost expected to receive a blow in return. Instead, he smiled.

“Come, my love,” said Igraine’s husband, “aren’t you happy to see me? Doesn’t a husband have certain rights? Isn’t a wife supposed to welcome his embrace?” And he held her tighter, so tightly she could hardly breathe, and though she turned her head he managed to kiss her, forcing the scratch of his chapped lips against her own.

Gorlois would never say such things. He had been enchanted, or driven mad by battle, or- no. He couldn’t be an imposter. Didn’t Igraine know her own husband?

_ If I know my own husband _ , she thought absurdly, _ then this is not him _ .

“Would you rather Uther had come for you?” he asked her with a cruel smile upon his face. Uther. That was who he reminded her of in that moment. She had seen the way the high king looked at her during that fateful banquet, his handsome face distorted by a lust so strong it was almost fury, and she saw that look now distort the face of Gorlois.

“Please,” Igraine said, “it isn’t right.” Why had she said that? What wasn’t right? In the eyes of the law, her husband was perfectly entitled to her, though he had never been so insistent before. 

She was no maiden cornered by an enemy knight- she was a married woman being held in the arms of the man she loved.

And now those arms were dragging her over to the bed, and she had to suppress a scream. What good would it do? Would his knights really raise up arms against their own lord, when he was doing nothing more than claiming his wife? Or worse, what if Morgause or Morgan came running to see why their mother had cried out? What if this demon looked at them and saw younger versions of Igraine herself?

That was what he was, she realized. A demon. A demon who had taken the form of her husband. She had heard stories of such things, chiefly connected to the birth of the mad sage Merlin, but she had never credited them before. Now there was no other explanation she could find.

Igraine murmured her prayers as the thing wearing Gorlois’ face undressed her, but they were not enough to drive the evil spirit away. They were not enough to keep his hands off her body, rough war-torn calluses gripping strongly enough to leave marks upon her own soft skin. It was obscene to feel such harshness from the hands that had once caressed her so gently, and she fought back another scream when he gripped her around the waist. Whatever happened, her daughters must never hear her cry out.

“Hush,” her demon lover whispered as she softly wept, “hush, my darling. It is only your husband come to claim his due.”

And claim it he did. He was not brutal with her, but he would not be denied. She felt his hands upon her hips, lips and teeth upon her neck, the feel of his legs trapping hers, all while he gazed at her intently with the sweet face of her husband. It could not be real. It was some sort of horrible nightmare. If she simply kept from falling apart, she would wake up alone in her room, or in the arms of her gentle true love.

Her demon lover used no magic to hold her under his spell. Perhaps it would have been better if he had, but he almost seemed to enjoy Igraine shivering underneath him in fear and despair. There was little pain, but only an overwhelming feeling of helplessness. This man, this thing, could possess her utterly and there was nothing she could do about it. She could not dislodge herself from his arms, she could not reach help if she cried out, she could not plead for mercy from a thing which had none to give.

_ Let him release me _ , she prayed, _let him vanish with the light of dawn._ _ Let this all be nothing but a terrible memory if it cannot be a dream _ .

She was still naked in the demon’s arms when the cry went up throughout the castle- Gorlois had been slain in battle. Igraine looked up at his face, but the thing that was not Gorlois did not appear frightened at having been found out. He looked like he had defeated an enemy. She pushed frantically against his grip, but he only held her more tightly, pressed up against his skin in a crude mockery of an embrace.

“I told you I’d have you,” said the man she finally knew to be Uther Pendragon, and at last Igraine screamed.


End file.
